


Lonnie's Boy

by poisonquiver



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:35:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29469564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonquiver/pseuds/poisonquiver
Summary: There's a universe where Jonathan Byers kills the rabbit. There's a universe where Jonathan Byers loves his dad.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	Lonnie's Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Let's just say that I don't know what this is or is going to be. This is one of those I-got-the0idea-after-reading-a-random-sentence-in-an-unrelated-book-and-I-had-to-write-it-down kind of ideas. I just kinda want to explore the differences that it would make to the story. Don't worry though, the real Jonathan is still in there somewhere and even this version of Jonathan isn't as bad as Billy

He doesn't want to kill the rabbit, not really. He can't make himself do it. Not when he's looking right at it, not when he's looking right at the little guy's face with its big brown eyes and little whiskers. He doesn't _want_ to.

He turns to look at his dad, to tell him, to say that _actually_ I can't do this, but that proves to be his undoing.

His dad is looking like he's ready to be disappointed. His lips are set in a firm line, and his jaw is clenched tightly. It's a look Jonathan hates. He just - he wants his dad to be _proud_ of him - he can't - it's like - his dad is so cool. Everyone at school says so. His dad is the coolest dad in the entire fourth grade and Tommy Y's dad is a _firefighter_. His dad is the coolest person ever and he just wants his dad to think he's cool too.

But the bunny looks scared. 

_Man up, Byers_. He tells himself - it's a _bunny._

"Any day now, boy." His dad chastises and Jonathan winces, tightening his grip around the handle of the gun. His palms are clammy, and his pulse feels overloud in his ears. 

He doesn't know what's heavier, the gun in his hand or the weight of his father's stare. 

He takes a steadying breath and takes the shot. 

It veers slightly off course, but still manages to hit the rabbit. Jonathan tries not to wince at the sight of the blood.

His dad is ecstatic, shaking him by the shoulders (gently this time, not like last time when he - ) and whooping with glee. 

"Atta boy, Jonny, atta boy. Knew you could do it." There's pride lined in his every word and Jonathan revels in it, soaking it up like the last days of sun before winter. He's never given his dad a lot of reasons to be proud before. He's tried, he's tried so many times, but he's never shared any hobbies with his dad, never had anything in common with the man, and it hurts sometimes. It hurts because he loves his dad and he wants to spend time with his dad but he doesn't want his dad to feel bored, to feel tired, to feel like Jonathan's a burden. 

He was so excited for this trip because it meant that he could spend time with his dad, just the two of them, and they could _bond._ He just - he wants his dad to like him.

"Did I do okay?" He asks, and the smile on his dad's face is answer enough. He did okay. 

"Now we just gotta put the little sucker out of its misery, don't we?"

The bubble of happiness inside of Jonathan pops. His smile dims, his heart races. 

He thought - he _thought_ \- wasn't it enough? Hadn't it been enough?

"Dad?"

"Don't give me that look, _boy_." Jonathan always hates the way he says boy, like it's an insult, a dirty word, a stain on his shoe. It hurts Jonathan's soul whenever it's directed at him. He squirms under his father's gaze and hands the gun over. 

Except his dad doesn't take it. There's a sick glint in his eyes, a darkness that Jonathan doesn't understand. 

"Ain't me who's gonna kill it, bucko." 

It takes a lot of effort for Jonathan not to shudder.

He doesn't _want_ \- it's wrong to - he's not - he's a kid, he can't just.

But.

His dad had called him _Jonny_. 

He never calls him Jonny unless he's proud. He's the only one who ever calls him that. 

_(I'm not calling him that, Lonnie. It's bad enough he's saddled with your ridiculous first name, you wanna make his middle name sound the same too? Just when i thought you couldn't_ possibly _get any more narcissistic.)_

He just wants his dad to be proud of him.

He wants the people in this town to know that he's Lonnie's boy.

He closes his hand around the gun again, closes his eyes on a deep exhale and takes aim again. 

He shoots.

* * *

"Should'a seen him today, Angus. A real Byers man. Shot it in the eye and everything." 

It's a lie, but his dad winks at him, nudges him with the hand holding a beer bottle, like they're in on a big secret, and he beams at his dad. 

"Uh-huh. You gon buy him a drink for that sharp-shooting or what?" Angus asks, bored as Hell. He wipes down the counter and places a highball glass down on it, reaches into the fridge for a coke. 

"Nah, none of that kiddie drink stuff, Angus, my boy's a man now. Give him some of that teethin' whiskey your wife swears by." 

Angus's wife does indeed swear by a little whiskey on her baby's gums, if only to get him to shut up for a minute, and Angus figures his son ain't dead yet, so he pulls down the bottle and pours a finger's worth into a glass, sliding it over to the kid. 

Jonathan looks at his dad questioningly, who nods, already too drunk to care.

"Drink up."

* * *

"He's _drunk_ , Lonnie. Our _10_ _year_ _old_ _son_ is drunk. Are you happy with yourself?" 

Loud. 

Very loud.

Mom's mad. 

But Jonny doesn't care. 

The brown stuff dad made him drink tasted funny and it burned going down, but dad had said it was _fine_. He doesn't get why mom's mad. 

He doesn't _like_ that she's mad but he also doesn't _get_ why she's mad. 

"'M sorry mom." He says, voice all slurry and funny and not coming out right. 

"Oh sweetie, it's not _you_ I'm mad at." She takes his hand and leads him to the bathroom, telling him to take a shower in her gentlest voice, the one she uses when he's sick.

He doesn't like it. 

But he also doesn't fight it too hard when she brushes his hair away from his face and kisses his forehead, or when she unbuttons his shirt and tells him to take a shower. 

She notices the blood on his shirt cuff and her face tightens into an ugly mask.

She makes sure Jonathan's safely in the shower and steady on his feet before she goes outside and throws the shirt at Lonnie's face, guiltily happy when a button scratches his cheek.

"You took him _hunting_?! You know I didn't want you to do that until he was old enough."

"He _is_ old enough, Joyce! If I'da left it to you, he'd never be old enough! I'm not raising no pansies!"

Time stops.

Everything goes deathly quiet. 

Joyce shakes.

"Get out." She says, voice hard as stone.

Lonnie doesn't argue, beats a hasty retreat, goes to lick his wounds at Beth's place. 

She doesn't see him for a week.

Jonathan doesn't understand why, doesn't get why his mom would do that. 

He and his dad, they'd had fun, they'd had fun on his _birthday_ and he doesn't get why his mom would _do_ that.

His dad didn't do anything wrong. 

Right?

* * *

6 years down the line, and 4 boys are gathered around their bikes chatting earnestly about their plans for Sunday.

"It's gonna be sick." Dustin says happily, a broad grin stretched across his face. His excitement is catchy and the others grin back.

"It's gonna be so legendary, man, you don't even understand." 

"Yeah." Will doesn't share their exuberance, pushing his bike up and down listlessly, sighing with his whole body. "This bites."

It bites because it's his dad's weekend and he has to spend it with his stupid janky dad. It was _supposed_ to be last week, but his flaky father had forgotten and he promised to make it up this weekend. Jonathan's excited, loves hanging out with their dad, but Will _hates_ it. His dad is the _worst_. He and his dad have nothing in common, and all he ever does is watch sports and makes Will get him a beer from the fridge. Sometimes he makes him get one for _Jonathan_ too and Will thinks that's why Jonathan loves going there. He can get away with a lot more crap at dad's place and it's bullshit. It's hot, steaming piles of bullshit. 

"I don't even want to _go_." He whines, slumping dramatically over his handlebars, eliciting a snort from Dustin and a soft pat between the shoulders from Mike.

Then Mike gets an idea face on. That face either means something really bad, or something really really good. Will's banking on their luck holding steady on this one. They're due.

"Your mom hates it when you guys go over there, right?" He asks, despite knowing the answer.

"Yeah, she hates the way Jonathan gets after he's been around my dad."

Will hates it too. It's like his brother's a whole other person around their dad, a _nastier_ version of himself and it makes Will sick. He doesn't like the way that Jonathan acts, like he has something to prove, like he has to act a certain way or, or be a certain person for his dad to like him, which is ridiculous. Will likes him fine the way he is normally, the way he is when he's not around their dad, _ever_ _yone_ likes that Jonathan.

Except maybe Jonathan - and their dad. 

"Lucas, give me a quarter." The discussion had continued while Will had zoned out and it appears Mike has already told the others the plan. 

He wants to ask for a repeat but Lucas has a bitch face on and Will just sighs, settling in for the argument that Mike _will_ end up winning.

He loves his friends but they're idiots.

* * *

"Where's your brother?" Lonnie asks as Jonathan pulls up to his house, peering into the car as if Will will magically appear. Jonathan rolls his eyes as he makes his way to the trunk of the car, getting his bag.

"Apparently his loser friends had planned some lame sleepover for this weekend, and he didn't wanna cancel." Jonathan shrugs, swinging his bag over his shoulder, jostling his dad slightly as he does. He winces, but doesn't apologize, knows his dad would hate that more than the jostling. 

"Where's Allison? She's usually the first person here." He grins lasciviously before adding "I prefer her, honestly." His father chuckles lightly, smacking him upside the head in a move that knocks a filling out of place. It's only years of practise that makes it so Jonathan doesn't flinch. His dad's never had a soft touch.

"Found out about Heather and got all pissy." He says airily, and Jonathan sighs. He'd actually liked Allison. She made a mean pie, and knew how to handle Will. Heather's a loud mouthed pain 'with an amazing rack' according to his dad. She also stares at Jonathan a lot, in a way that makes him uncomfortable, but that's sissy talk so Jonathan won't mention it to his dad. 

"I'll talk her round again, don'tcha worry. I know she'd make a good step-mom." Jonathan pulls a disgusted face when his dad turns around fully. 

Ick.

"Speakin' of, how's it looking on the step-dad front, huh? Anyone biting on that old line yet?"

This time Jonathan doesn't bother hiding his grimace. That's his _mom_. Lonnie lets out a short sharp bark of laughter at his face, clapping him on the shoulder. 

"Your _face_. Jesus Christ. Don't you worry boy, ain't no one taking your place as man of the house any time soon. Not with your mom the way she is. Even less 'cause those boys know she's my girl." He laughs, but Jonathan knows he's serious.

"How's Will getting to school on Monday then?" he asks, and that surprises Jonathan - his dad doesn't care about stuff like that, never has.

"I was thinking me and you could paint the town red without some hanger-on dragging us down." And _there_ it is. Jonathan finds himself relieved, can't imagine how he'd feel if his dad actually gave a shit.

"I can show my kid off to those assholes at McConnel's bar who don't believe I bedded a woman, let alone long enough to get her pregnant." That same acrid laugh again. "And if you're gonna be partying with your old man, you're gonna be _way_ too wrecked for school on Monday. I don't even know why you bother with schoolin' Jonny."

That name still makes Jonathan feel happy inside, a thing he'll never tell his dad. 

"Mom insists." It's a lie, but lies are easier than the truth, easier to explain than _'I actually enjoy school, I wanna go to college'_ because Lonnie Byers doesn't think long-term and wouldn't understand - so _lie_.

"I could get you any job you wanted down here, easy as you please. I know people Jonny. Say the word." Jonathan sighs, bone deep and world weary. 

"I know, dad. I just - mom wants me to graduate." 

Lonnie rolls his eyes. 

"You can graduate and still miss a Monday or two right?" 

"Yeah, dad." He says, beaming. A bender with his dad should be awesome, if slightly unorthodox. 

"Just make sure your mom knows that you won't be home in time to get your brother Sunday night." Lonnie reminds Jonathan as he steers him into the house, arm slung across his shoulder.

"Yeah sure."

* * *

On Monday morning, Karen Wheeler sees two boys off to school, and on Tuesday night, Barb Holland goes missing.

**Author's Note:**

> Could you tell I didn't know how to end that? Yeah... anyway  
> I don't know what this is exactly, but i do know that i don't own Stranger Things and if I did Charlie Heaton would get more to work with and he'd have an actual character arc, not set piece.  
> I hope people reading this like it, and not to be that bitch but a comment? does wonders for my skin.
> 
> [Insert funny outro here]


End file.
